Harry Potter and the Forest of Shadows
by Wenhaver
Summary: As Harry begins his sixth year at Hogwarts, questions surrounding the events of Sirius’s death remain unanswered, and new ones arise. And unexpectedly, the Order is invaded. New horrors come to light as Harry confronts his biggest adventure yet.


Harry Potter and the Forest of Shadows

By: Keara

Disclaimer: Everything (characters, places, etc.) is taken from the Harry Potter series, by J.K. Rowling. Elements taken from all five books.

WARNING: Rated PG-13 for dark themes. Contains Book 5 spoilers.

Summary: When Harry enters his sixth year at Hogwarts, questions surrounding the events of Sirius's death remain unanswered, and new ones arise. And unexpectedly, the Order is invaded. New horrors come to light as Harry confronts his biggest adventure yet. But the raid at Grimmauld Place remains unexplained… is there a traitor in the Order of the Phoenix?

Chapter 1: Newts, Owls, and a Troubled Mind

Life in Little Whinging was quite as it always had been. Summer had just begun, and students were out of school, so there was always laughter to be heard from the streets as children played, enjoying the warm, pleasant days of July. There was nothing to suggest that anything was out of the ordinary. Nothing that would lead one to think that something terrible would soon happen. And no one, not even fifteen-year-old Harry Potter, saw any sign of Lord Voldemort or his followers.

The Dursleys' attitude towards Harry had calmed considerably since the dementor attack the year before. Though Dudley still occasionally accused Harry of causing the whole event, Harry remembered with grim satisfaction how Petunia had scolded Dudley for "continuing to mention such a nightmarish incident with relish." 

Indeed, Petunia had seemed extremely agitated as of late, and Harry did not pretend to know why. His aunt knew perfectly well what Voldemort was capable of doing, and how her relationship with Harry put her and her family in danger. But instead of accusing Harry, or shooting him the you've-only-survived-these-sixteen-years-because-of-me look that he had been expecting, she just…left him alone. 

And this was all very well with Harry, because he had enough on his mind. His conscience was still plagued with the events that led to Sirius's death, and one of many drawbacks of living with the Dursleys was that he had no one to talk to, to share his feelings with. Although, he wasn't quite sure if he was ready to do so anyway. But at least it would have been comforting if that were an option.

The same thoughts, same guilt-ridden and terrible theories were constantly running through his head: If he had practiced Occlumency, if he hadn't believed Voldemort's stupid trap, if he had listened to Hermione's advice that he shouldn't try "playing the hero", Sirius might still be alive. He didn't care about Dumbledore's reassurances. It was Harry's fault, Harry's stupid mistake, that had led to the tragedy. 

And so the first few weeks of his summer holiday passed without event. The one thing that was successful in taking his mind off Sirius was waiting for the OWLS to arrive. Harry wanted to see how many classes he passed, all the while hopeful of an 'Outstanding' in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He could think of nothing else that might brighten his mood. But they did not come, and the end of July grew nearer.

Of course, he received many other letters. He had renewed his subscription to the Daily Prophet, so he had a good idea of what was going on in the Wizarding world. Since the attack on the Ministry, there had been no signs of Death Eater activity. If it weren't for Fudge and the other witnesses (if Fudge admitted to the Dark Lord returning to power, it was evident to everyone that this was the truth), there would be no reason to believe Voldemort was indeed at large once again.

"That's probably his plan," Harry thought bitterly on several occasions. "Keeping everyone in suspense, causing them to doubt."

He received no information from anyone in the Order, because now the risk of letters being intercepted was even greater. He often wished Lupin or someone would come to Privet Drive and tell him what was going on, but he supposed that the members of the Order were now busier than ever, and Harry found it hard to hold a grudge when any day now one of them could end up like Sirius.

Hermione was at Ron's house for a little while. They were doubtless together because they wanted to discuss the events at the Department of Mysteries, and Harry would probably be there too if he wasn't forbidden to leave the Dursley's house. Dumbledore had told Harry that due to Voldemort's return, it was necessary that Harry remain with the Dursleys the entire summer. 

Of course, Harry was angry about this. He understood that he was protected here, but last summer, when Voldemort had already come back, he had been allowed to stay at the Order. Of course, that had only been because of the dementors, but still…Harry hated his caged existence. 

Harry wished that Ron and Hermione had not told them they were together, because it only served to deepen his jealous, miserable mood.

"Only a week until my birthday," Harry thought drowsily as he got out of bed one morning. He had woken up in a sweat and feeling shaken, as one waking from a long, terrible nightmare. But he could not remember any dreams. He supposed this was a good sign; if Voldemort had tried to trick him, he would have made sure Harry remembered whatever vision he had. But all the same, Harry did not enjoy feeling as though he had just watched someone die. And Voldemort probably would not try to take over Harry's mind after what happened at the ministry, unless it was to, as Dumbledore had warned, possess him….

He went down the stairs, seeing that the Daily Prophet had not arrived yet. This meant that it would probably be delivered at breakfast. Usually, Harry would wait in his room until it arrived, but today he found he did not care about risking Uncle Vernon's displeasure.

Sure enough, he had just been setting the table when an owl flew in the window, clutching a rolled up newspaper by its legs.

Uncle Vernon glared at Harry, but remembering Moody's warning at the platform, refrained from yelling directly at his nephew.

"Filthy things, owls," he muttered. "Typical choice of pet for a you-know-what."

Dudley waddled into the kitchen. Harry had noticed with satisfaction that his cousin hadn't grown an inch the whole year, and was prepared to point that out if Dudley ever bothered him.

But now, Harry was reading the Daily Prophet headline. 

"DEATH EATERS TO BE TRIED, HEARING SET FOR…" He frowned. The same story had been appearing for a week, the only new information was exclusive quotes from Fudge and other Ministry officials. 

"The Prophet doesn't have anything else to write about," Harry thought, somewhat sadly. "Still no sign of him." 

"What does the paper say?" his Aunt Petunia asked suddenly. Dudley paused, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth, and looked at his mother in surprise.

Petunia looked quite flustered. "About HIM, what does it say about HIM?!" she snapped impatiently. But there was worry evident in her voice, as though she did not really want to know the answer at all.

"There's no sign of him," Harry said flatly.

Vernon looked at Petunia questioningly, and she said, still looking worried, "I have a right to know if he's close by, you know he'll want to--" she broke off, glancing at Dudley, who was no longer paying attention because he had remembered the toast. But she did not continue what she wanted to say, merely glared at Harry, who glared back. Perhaps Petunia understood the danger they were in, but he was wrong to think she did not hate him for it. After breakfast he wasted no time in returning to his room and slamming the door, to protesting yells from Uncle Vernon.

That night, his letters came from Hogwarts, and with them OWL results.

The envelope felt thick, and when Harry opened it the saw three separate pieces of parchment, all in the typical emerald ink. Without wasting a moment, he read the first letter.

"Dear Mr. Potter,

Enclosed is your supply list for your sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well as a schedule of your NEWT and suggested elective courses. Also enclosed are the results of the OWL examinations you underwent in June."

It was signed by Professor McGonagall. Harry eagerly looked at the next piece of parchment, his heart pounding. His hands were shaking nervously. This one letter would decide his entire future, for it would tell if he had qualified for Auror training. 

"Ordinary Wizarding Level Examination Results for Mr. Harry Potter-

Charms, Exceeds Expectations

Defense Against the Dark Arts, Outstanding

Herbology, Acceptable

History of Magic, Poor

Potions, Exceeds Expectations

Transfiguration, Exceeds Expectations"

Harry stared at the letter with shock, and reread it several times, certain that his eyes were deceiving him--he couldn't have passed potions, it was inconceivable. And yet, there it was, an 'E', the minimum OWL grade for acceptance into Snape's difficult, demanding NEWT class. So far 10 OWLS…and in all the classes he needed to become an Auror. He looked at the remaining text. It was his elective grades:

"Additional Courses-

Astronomy, Acceptable" (Harry supposed his written examination had brought up his points, for on the practical, he was certain he had achieved no higher than "poor", due to the distractions that occurred near Hagrid's cabin.)

Care of Magical Creatures, Acceptable 

Divination, Dreadful"

Despite a failing grade in Divination--he had been expecting this since before the test even ended--Harry felt a sudden rush through his body, and, resisting the urge to dance around his bedroom in his delight at meeting the requirements of an Auror, he opened the next letter. Inside was the typical booklist, including new items and materials he would need for his NEWT courses. Among them were ingredients for what must have been extremely complicated mixtures. He realized for not the first time that he would be taking Potions again, his least favorite class, and frowned slightly. Though he wanted to be an Auror more than anything else, he was still particularly angry with Professor Snape for taunting Sirius. 

He felt his throat become suddenly tight. Sirius. Harry had tried so hard to convince himself that Sirius's death was not entirely his fault, but it was becoming hard. Everything was starting to remind him of his godfather. Whenever he saw a mirror, he was reminded of Sirius's last gift to him, which still lay shattered at the bottom of Harry's trunk, never unpacked, never repaired.

He was even reminded of his godfather when he saw a stray dog, and only recently had Harry stopped going teary-eyed when he thought of how many years of Sirius's life had been wasted in Azkaban, the wizard prison, when wrongly accused of murdering 13 people. Harry couldn't even imagine his life before knowing Sirius, without having that glimmer of hope that one day he would forever leave Privet Drive and live with the only real family he had. But now, that hope was gone anyway. Only it's memory remained to taunt Harry each and every moment he spent in the Dursley's household.

Harry shook his head vigorously, as though using force to ward off such dreary thoughts. He needed distraction. Wallowing in the grief of his loss would not bring Sirius back. He was gone forever, beyond the veil, with all the other dead wizards of the past. Pulling a small roll of parchment and a quill from a drawer in his bureau, he sat on his bed and began a letter to Ron and Hermione, thinking, despite his 13 OWLS, that this might prove to be the worst summer of his life.

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The next chapter should be up soon.

Please, don't forget to review! Constructive criticism wanted, encouraged, and appreciated.

Thanks! ;)


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